


The Dark Wolf

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 07:45:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17618351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: Doctor Who version of 'King Valemon, The White Bear.' Fulfills my "retelling of a fairy tale" prompt.





	The Dark Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [King Valemon, The White Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/453767) by Asbjørnsen & Moe. 



> Per labellezzacisalvera's wonderful suggestion for something a little different. The version I retold I found [here](https://fairytalez.com/king-valemon-white-bear/) . Not personally happy with it. For me the challenge was keeping to the writing style. But hey, I finished a thing! Unbeta'd.

Once upon a time, there was a king.

This particular king was not a benevolent king. He was ruthless and manipulative. Despite this, as if by some unknown magical source, his personal ambitions always happened to allow for the gain of the kingdom, and thus his people.

The king, however, is not the focus of this tale.

This particular king had three sons.

The two elder sons were gloomy and prone to bouts of extreme withdrawal and suffered crushing guilt that no one quite understood.

The third son, the youngest son, was bouncy and free of spirit and everyone was glad of him.

One day, he dreamt of a rectangular sapphire the size of his hand that sparkled like the stars in the night sky and sung a song that was older than time itself and so beautiful that it would bring tears to the eyes of even the hardest of hearts. It was so lovely that he couldn’t live until he had it.

He searched far and wide throughout the kingdom. He could not find it. Time lost meaning and yet he still could not find it. He grew irritable and erratic. He could be found wandering the castle halls late at night, muttering to himself and violently running a hand through his hair, often tugging on the strands until they stood on end in silent protest.

When the king learned of the reason for his son’s madness, he sent out a demand to every jeweler in every land to craft the gem for which his son desired. Under the threat of death if they did not comply, the jewelers worked night and day, abandoning all current work in an attempt to please the king.

But as the gems began flooding in from all across the land, the youngest prince tossed some of the precious stones to the wayside. The rest he would not even set his eyes upon.

Full of frustration and sorrow, the prince retreated to the woods. He had not been wandering far when he heard the song his ears had been craving. Knowing it must be from the magical sapphire, he followed the sound.

Stumbling into a clearing, he came across a giant wolf. Its fur was jet black and shimmered with a golden tint at the smallest of movements. Its eyes were a brilliant yellow. The creature was beautiful.

And terrifying.

Between her paws lie the very gem the prince had dreamt of. He wanted to buy it. 

No, growled the wolf, it was not for sale for money. But he might have it...if she might have him.

Yes, the prince replied. For it was never worth living without it. It was all the same to him where he went and whom he got (or who got him) if he could only have the sapphire. And so it was settled between them. The prince would take the stone and go back to the castle. After the third day of his return had passed, she would come and fetch him. And that day was a Saturday.

When the prince went home with the sapphire, everyone was glad because he was glad again. Upon hearing of his adventure and agreement, the king said, it could not possibly be so hard to stop a she wolf. So on the third day, the king turned out his entire army to withstand her.

But when the she wolf came there was no one who could stand before her, for no weapon would bite her hide. She hurled them down right and left in a flurry of golden blows, so that they lay in heaps on either side. The king thought all of this was an annoying waste of time and resources; so he sent out his eldest son.

The she wolf took him upon her back and went off with him. When they had gone far, and even beyond what was far, the she wolf asked,--

“Have you ever sat softer, and have you ever seen clearer?”

“Yes! On my mother’s lap I sat softer, and in the great halls of Gallifrey I saw clearer,” he said.

“Oh, then you are not the right one,” said the she wolf. And with that, she carried him home again.

The next Saturday she came again and it all went just the same. The army went out to withstand the she wolf; but nothing could penetrate her magical golden shield. And so she dashed them down like ants till the king begged of her to stop so as to send out his son. He sent out his middle son, and the she wolf took him on her back and went off with him. So when they had traveled far and even beyond far, the she wolf asked,--

“Have you ever seen clearer, and have you ever sat softer?”

“Yes! In the great halls of Gallifrey I saw clearer, and on my mother’s lap I sat softer.”

“Oh, then you are not the right one,” said the she wolf. And with that, she carried him home again.

The third Saturday came with the arrival of the she wolf again. She smote the king’s army harder than she had done so before; unleashing the fury of having being tricked twice by the greedy king. The king finally thought that he could not continue to let her slay his entire army, and so he gave her his third son and cursed the name of Skaro.

She took the young prince upon her back and went far away. Beyond far. Beyond time. When they had gone deep, deep into the wood, she asked him as she had asked the others,--

“Have you ever sat softer or seen clearer?”

“No! Never!” he said.

“Ah,” she purred,”you are the right one.”

They came to a well kept cottage which was quaint and much smaller than his father’s castle. But there was where he was to be and live happily, and want for nothing, and learn that there was much more to living a rich life than living in a richly built palace. They went on adventures by day, the prince and the she wolf. At night she lie with him, and in the darkness she was a woman.

So all went well for three years; each year they grew more in friendship and in love. But at the end of the third year, she grew heavy and had a litter of three pups, which she took and carried off as soon as they had entered the world. He had only heard their quiet yips, before they had been taken from him. Thinking she did not trust him with their children or that he would not love wolf pups as his own, he grew more and more dull. He begged he might have leave to go home and see his parents, his old life.

There was nothing to stop that; but first he had to give his word that he would listen to what his mother said, but take no heed to what his father wished. So he went home, alone. When his parents had the opportunity to question him in secret, he told how he was treated. His father wanted to give him a magical light to take back that he might see what kind of woman she was, that maybe he could discern her weakness.

But his mother said, “No! He mustn’t do that, for it will lead to harm and not to gain.”

However it happened, he was swayed and it happened. The prince got a bit of a candle-end to take with him before returning to his new home with the she wolf. Just in case.

She asked no questions upon his arrival. They spent the remaining waking hours in an uneasy silence. As darkness settled around their cottage, the prince made up his mind.

The first thing he did when she was sound asleep, was to light the candle-end and throw the light on her. She was so incredibly lovely, with golden hair and full lips, that he thought he could never gaze enough at her. But as he held the candle over her, a hot bit of wax dropped on her forehead and she woke up.

“What have you done?” she cried. “Now you have cursed us both. There was no more than a month left, and had you lasted out...I would have been saved. A witchdoctor of the trolls has bewitched me and that is why I am a wolf by day. But now it is all over between us, for now I must go to him and become his wife.”

The prince dropped to his knees, apologizing with silent tears slipping down his cheeks. He begged her to stay anyway. He begged to go with her.

She gently touched his cheek, a sadness marred by anger dancing in her amber eyes. “No. You cannot.”

But despite her refusal, when she stepped outside and once again took on the shape of a wolf, he took hold of her thick fur and threw himself upon her back as she set off, holding on tight as he could.

Away they went, crossing crags and hills, through creeks and briars, through the thickest of trees. She ran faster than the fastest horse. Branches ripped at the prince until the clothes were torn off his back and he was so dead tired that his fingers slipped of their own accord. He lost grip of her fur and tumbled from her back, screaming for her until he hit his head and his world went dark.

When the prince came to himself, he was in a great wood. He set off, knowing not where he was going, only that he must go. After a long, long time he came to a hut. A small boy with brown hair and oddly familiar eyes was playing outside. A man with dark hair and blue eyes set into a handsome face was leaning in the door frame, arms crossed and watching the child play.

“Have you seen the Bad Wolf?” the prince asked by way of introduction, his mind set on finding her and nothing else.

“Yes,” said the man. “She passed by here early this morning. But she was going so fast, there’s no way you’ll be able to catch up.”

The little boy ran about the small clearing, clipping in the air and playing with a pair of golden scissors. The prince was momentarily distracted by the boy, for the scissors were a magic kind. A kind that silk and satin flew all about him if he only clipped the air with them. Where the scissors were, there would never be any want of clothes.

“Show me the way. For I must find her,” the prince demanded of the other man.

The man shook his head but nonetheless, pointed in the direction the prince must go.

“But this stranger,” said the little boy, “he is to go so far and on such bad ways. He will suffer much. He will have more need of these scissors than I. He needs them now.”

“I don’t know,” said the man. He looked the prince over, staring at him in such a way as to make the prince shift nervously on his feet and scratch at the back of his neck. “I think it’s a good look for him.”

The boy ignored this and begged his father so hard, that at last he was granted the permission to give the prince the scissors.

The prince gave a muttered thank you and then went on his way. He travelled through the wood, which seemed to never have an end. He travelled day and night, until the next morning when he came upon another hut. Once again, a little boy played outdoors. Only this one was of fair skin and fair hair, a stark contrast to the couple that sat nearby and watched over him. For where the boy was the embodiment of day, they were embodiment of night. Even their clothes were dark in color.

This did not strike the prince as odd. Even if it had, he would not have cared. He only cared for finding Her.

“Have you seen any sign of the Bad Wolf?” he asked them.

“Was it you who was to have her?” said the man.

“Yes. It was.”

“Well, she passed by here just yesterday. But you’re too late. She’s fast and long gone by now. There’s no way you’ll catch her.”

The little boy played about in the grass with a flask. A flask that was also magical, as it poured out every drink that anyone wished to have.

“Just tell him which way she went,” the wife said, placing a hand on the man’s arm.

The man obliged his wife then took her hand in his.

“But this poor man,” said the boy. “He is to go so far and on such bad ways. I think he will be thirsty. I think he will suffer much. He needs the flask more than I.” He turned to his parents. “May I give it to him?”

They exchanged a secret look between lovers and then nodded at the boy.

The prince smiled in thanks and then went on his way. He walked farther through the same endless wood. He walked that day and the next night. The third morning he came to yet another hut. This time it was a little girl that played in the yard. She had red hair and the same unsettling familiar eyes that the first boy had had. A woman with hair a darker shade of red sat playing with the girl.

“H-hello,” said the prince, emerging from the wood.

“Hello,” said the woman.

“Have you seen anything of the Bad Wolf?” he asked.

“Was it you who was to have her?”

“Yes. It was.”

“Well, pretty boy. She passed by here the day before yesterday. But she went so fast that you’ll never be able to catch her.”

The little girl played on the floor with a napkin which was magic as well. For when the girl said, “Napkin, spread yourself out and be covered with dainty dishes,” it did so. There would never be any want of a good dinner, so long as one had the napkin and knew the words.

“Please tell me which way she went. I must find her,” the prince implored, no longer transfixed by the napkin.

“Oh alright,” the woman replied, showing him the way to go.

“But this poor man,” said the little girl. “Surely his wife misses him. He will have to go so far and over such bad ways to find her. He will starve and suffer much else. He needs the napkin more than I. May I give it to him?”

The mother looked between the girl and the prince, then beamed at the girl and patted her on the head. “Yes, of course.”

The prince took the napkin and thanked them deeply and then went on his way. He set off again, going far and then farther, and then farther than far. He idly wondered how it was even possible that the wood went on this far, but he was far too focused on catching up to his beloved to put much effort into that line of thinking. He walked through the wood all that day and night and well into the next morning.

It was then that he came to a cliffside that rose up so high and so broad that he could see no end to it. And no way of scaling it. His downcast eyes fell upon a hut set against the base of the cliff. He rushed to it, having barely stepped foot inside before he called out.

“Good-day! Have you seen the Bad Wolf pass by this way?”

“And good-day to you,” said the old man, a genuine smile covering his face. “Was it you then? Who was to have her?”

“Yes! It was. I must find her.”

“Well, she did pass by this way. Went right up over the cliff, she did. Three days ago it was. I don’t know how she managed it. There’s nothing that gets up that way that hasn’t got wings.” He frowned, but was quickly distracted by a small child that ran in front of him.

The prince looked around, only just noticing the many, many small children that crowded the tiny hut. All of them cried for food.

The old man sighed and put a pot on the fire, a pot filled with rounded pebbles.

“What’s that for then?” the prince asked, raising an eyebrow at the pot.

The other man waved him closer, then spoke in a hushed tone. “I ain’t got no food nor clothing. I’m as poor as it gets, young man. None of these here children are mine. I don’t know where they comes from, but I haven’t the heart to turn them away. Sometimes something comes along, but until it does…”

He shrugged and gave a sad sigh before turning to speak at the children. “The potatoes will be ready soon.”

The prince watched in astonishment as the words dulled their hunger, and they were patient awhile.

“Oh!” The prince began patting himself down, searching frantically for the napkin and the flask. In short time, he had brought out the napkin and the flask and quickly set to making them all clothes with the golden scissors while the children made themselves full and glad.

“Well,” said the old man, “Since you have been so kind and good towards me and these youngsters, it would be a shame if I didn’t do all in my power to try to help you over that bloody hill. A right shame. I know a fellow, well...he’s not exactly a fellow. Folks say he’s more dog than anything. Doesn’t matter, he lives just down the way and he’s the best blacksmith in the world. Why don’t you lie down and rest, I’ll get the children settled and then I’ll go get him to forge you claws for your hands and feet. And then you should be able to crawl and scramble right over the hillside!”

The prince looked around at the many children, unsure of how to answer.

“I won’t be gone more than a day. And they’re all very sweet when they’re fed properly.”

The prince had no choice but to agree. It was his only hope of catching up to the Bad Wolf. And so, he made himself settled on the bed that was offered. He was drifting to sleep at last as the old man put the last child to bed and stepped out of the hut.

The old man returned with a pair of climbing tools that resembled claws the following day, late in the morning but not yet the height of the afternoon.

Thanking the old man profusely, the prince immediately took the claws and began the climb. He clung close to the rock, creeping and crawling with the steel claws all that day and the next night, and just as he felt so very very tired that he thought he could scarce lift hand or foot, but would surely slip down--there he was at the very top. There he found a plain, with tilled fields so big and broad, he never thought there could be any land so wide and so flat. Close by there was a castle full of workmen of all kids, who swarmed like ants on an ant-hill.

“What’s all this then?” asked the prince, coming upon the castle.

“Well, if ye must know,” said a passerby. “This is where the Master lives. Rumor has it he’s bewitched the Bad Wolf and in three days time, he’s to hold his wedding feast with her. That’s why we’re all in such a hurry.”

“Might I have a word with him?”

“Ha! A word? With the Master? I think not. It’s quite impossible.” The worker walked away, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

The prince made his way to the castle, pacing and tugging on his hair as he tried to find a way in. He collapsed on the grass beneath one of the windows in a huff, pulling out the golden scissors and cliping frantically in the air. He clipped and clipped until the silks and satins flew about as thick as a snow drift, and yet he was no closer to thinking his way through the thick stone walls.

But the Master had just so happened to pass by that very window and glance down. He stuck his golden head out the window, proclaiming who he was with a pompous air and demanding to buy the scissors. For his tailors could do no good at all and there were too many to find clothes for.

“These are are not for sale for money,” the prince replied. “But...you shall have it, if you give me leave to sleep with your sweetheart this night.”

The Master cackled, bent over and leaned terribly far out the window, close to falling out. “Yes! You may have leave and be welcome to such a favor. You yourself must lull her to sleep if you are to be the one to wake her in the morning.”

But when the prince went to his beloved that night, she was already asleep. For the Master had given her a sleeping draught and she could not keep an eye open, for all that the prince cried and wept.

Next day, the prince went under the window again, this time pouring out a drink from his flask. It frothed like a brook with ale and wine and it was never empty. So when the Master saw that, he was all for buying. For all their brewing and stilling was no good at all and there were too many to find drink for.

The prince once again said it was not for sale for money, but if he were to have leave again to sleep with the Master’s sweetheart that night, then he could have it.

“Yes! You may have leave and be welcome to such a favor. You yourself must lull her to sleep if you are to be the one to wake her in the morning.”

It went no better that night than it had the night before. His beloved had again been given a sleeping draught by the Master and she could not keep an eye open, for all that the prince cried and wept.

But that night, there was a workman who worked in the room next to theirs. He heard the weeping and knew how things stood. The next day he told Rose, for that was the she wolf’s name, that she must stay awake, for the prince had come to set her free.

That day it went the same with the napkin as it had with the scissors and the flask. About dinner time, the prince went outside the castle and sat alone beneath the same window, saying the words to the napkin so that there was meat enough, and thensome, for hundreds of men.

Once the Master saw the napkin and all of its food, he of course wanted to buy it. For all their roasting and boiling was worth nothing, for there were too many mouths to feed.

But the prince said that it was not for sale for money, if he were to have leave once more to sleep with the Master’s sweetheart that night, then he could have it.

“Yes! You may have leave and be welcome to such a favor. You must again be the one to lull her to sleep if you are to be the one to wake her in the morning.”

Before going to his own bedchamber, the Master came to Rose with the sleeping draught. This time she was aware of him and made as though she slept. But the Master did not trust her, for he took a pin and stuck it into her arm to try and catch her faking her sound slumber. For all the pain it gave her, she did not stir a bit. And so the prince got leave to come to her.

“I knew you would come for me,” she whispered as they embraced.

“Quite right, too.” The prince gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before they planned on how to be rid of the Master. After all, if they could accomplish this then there would be all of time for which they could have a true and passionate reunion.

The prince left his beloved sooner than he would have liked, for there was work to be done. The Bad Wolf went and gathered the carpenters together so that they could fashion her a trap-door on the bridge over which the bridal party had to pass. For though it was custom for the bride to ride at the head of the train with her friends, the Master had insisted that he make his entrance first.

The next day, when they got well on to the bridge, the trap-door tipped up with the Master and all the cohorts he had gathered and they plummeted to the rocks below.

The Bad Wolf and the prince, and all the rest of the people, turned back to the castle. They took all they could carry away of the gold and the goods of the Master and then they set off for her own land so that they could hold a real wedding. Their wedding.

On the way, Rose picked up the children that the prince had encountered at the first three huts and took them along. For those children were the children of Rose and the prince. He now saw why it was that she had taken away the babes and put them out with others, it was so that they might help him to find her out. And so they drank their bridal ale both stiff and strong. The Bad Wolf and her Prince of Time, together forever.

As it should be.


End file.
